Moment of Absurdity
by PeachyLana
Summary: Here is my failure of this prompt: "Pick your favorite Norman Reedus character and make him gush over his one true love in 2500 words or less! Make the bad boy show his softer side. Make the tough guy melt your heart." Now alone, Daryl needs to motivate a despondent Beth.


This is my answer to a prompt from the "One True Love" community. I can't promise it has any of that, BUT it is definitely inspired by it! community/Reedus-s-One-True-Love-Challenge/112219/99/0/1/0/0/0/0/ It was the best I could come up with as realistically as I could imagine. I know this will be completely contradicted by the next episode.

**Moment of Absurdity**

Daryl doesn't move his eyes from the scene; the neighborhood looked promising. There had to be a house they could crash in for the night.

"What d'ya think?" It certainly didn't require her input, but Daryl asked anyway.

Never in a million years would he imagine this would be the person he'd end up alone with. A couple years ago he'd be pissed. No. He would be fucking_** livid**_ that he was stuck with her. Daryl finally turned, still waiting for her answer.

"Good enough." Beth's blue eyes, once full of innocence, were jaded and hard. She looked past him, even past the houses in front of them. Daryl wasn't sure she even heard what he said.

He knew she was getting worse, and he was going to have to address it soon.

She followed him silently; too damn quiet because he had to keep checking over his shoulder to make sure she was still there. Blankness engraved on her face. She was damaged. They all fucking were now. Kind of funny once you think about it. Different means but same end.

They…no, _**HE**_ checked the house to make sure it was clear.

"Watch my back," Daryl told her, but didn't trust her for one damn second. The girl was fucking out of it. She mindlessly barricaded the doors like he ordered, but he went behind her, double-checking. Once it was squared away, they sat on the floor, avoiding the furniture. Silence as the sun began to dip below the horizon and he worked on his arrows.

He had to give her time. Daryl could do at least that much for her. The girl watched her father get executed and her sister and the others' survival was unknown.

"You've gotten soft."

Beth's words caught him off guard. After all his patience, that's what she says? Daryl found it humorous instead of rightly offensive. At least she was talking.

"That right?" He raised an eyebrow, but his smirk ruined the intimidating look.

"I'm serious." She didn't smile. Daryl couldn't remember the last time he saw her smile, days ran together. Maybe he was losing it too. He kept it pushed down so he could keep them moving. He didn't doubt that it was only a matter of time before it caught up with him.

He grunted. That's what he got for fucking trying. Daryl got to his feet, but stopped at the doorway. She was taking it out on him, but letting it out was better than keeping it in. He could take it. How many times had he let much worse pour off his back?

He leaned on the door-frame and sighed. She picked at a hanging thread on her sweater, not bothering to even look at him.

"Told you," she muttered.

"Carin' doesn't make you soft." Daryl didn't know where those words came from. Was he defending himself? To her of all people? He didn't need to ever do that. But now…now he still felt awkward around her, like he was back in damned high school.

"Hurts more," she said staring at the ground. The girl barely got out more than a sentence at a time. Her voice was just flat, monotone, and bleak as hell. Daryl saw through that. He knew what was underneath. Rage.

"It's supposed to." Daryl sat beside her. He needed to get her straight for a moment. The shit that just went down was still churning in his gut too. They needed a distraction.

She rolled her eyes, and looked sickened that he was even trying to comfort her. Fucking hell. Old Daryl would have said 'Fuck it'. Sometimes he really missed that guy, because truthfully, it did hurt a lot fucking more now.

"You keep rolling your eyes at me and we'll see how soft I am."

Her lip quirked up, and Daryl knew he had a chance. But Beth's face reverted back into her pout. He smacked her leg with the back of his hand.

"Come on, say somethin'." He would take stupid conversation, as long as it was something to save her sanity…his sanity too. They had every other hour of the day to wallow in loss and grief.

She jumped at the surprise contact. "Like what?"

"I'm giving you a chance to ask me anything you want." Daryl realized as soon as the words left his lips that he was fucked. "I'll even tell you what I did before all this."

She shrugged her shoulders, not interested. "I don't know…." She sighed and looked at the ceiling as if the question was written up there.

"Don't know? Don't girls play truth or dare or stupid stuff like that?"

She glared at him. "I was going to be nice about it, but fine." She took a second. Daryl inwardly cursed, knowing it was trouble if it took effort to spit out. "Did you hook up with anyone at the prison?"

Daryl blinked. "What?" He rubbed his dirty, dark hair and checked that she wasn't joking. "No." This was delving into dangerous territory. "The last girl I dated, hell…that was forever ago." He grimaced at the thought of her.

Beth nodded, apparently happy with his answer. "What was…." She bit her lip in thought. "The most romantic thing you've ever done for a girl you were with?"

"You've got to be kiddin' me." He did ask for this.

"I don't figure you the chocolate and roses type." She said looking him over.

"Pshh, of course not. I was into poetry."

She stifled a laugh and it came out as a girlish giggle. It was a fucking comfort to hear.

"Seriously, though?" Daryl leaned his head back against the wall, piecing together memories. "There was a time this guy was talking shit about my girl. So I…." Daryl struggled to find something not as crass as 'stomped his ass.' Since when did care about cursing in her presence?

"Defended her honor," Beth helpfully supplied.

"Yeah, defended her honor." Daryl avoided mentioning the guy's hospitalization after numerous blows with a pool cue. That was after Merle decided to jump in. "But besides a mix-tape or somethin' that's about it."

"Mix tapes?" Her voice went up in pitch. "God, that's so old."

_Note to self: don't talk about all the fucking vinyl records you had…_

"Hey! It wasn't that long ago, and that was how you did it back in the day. I have pretty good taste in music too." Now he was offended?

"Well, now I want to hear it. What kind of music? Heavy metal band love songs?" She grinned at him, but Daryl was serious.

"Damn straight. What do you consider romantic then?" Daryl needed to get this conversation off of him anyway. "Reciting Shakespeare?"

"Romantic?" She smiled to herself. "I always wanted someone to write me a song and maybe play the guitar and serenade me."

Daryl's face said it all. Beth slapped his knee with a wide smile. "Shut up!" Her eyes focused on the growing holes in his worn, dark jeans.

"I didn't say anythin'," he said innocently.

"I know what you're thinking," she was blushing. "Everything seems so trivial now that it's embarrassing to even admit."

"Nah, I knew girls that thought romantic meant buying them a few shots and sending them a dirty text." Fuck, he didn't mean for it to go down that path.

Beth either chose not to acknowledge it or didn't notice. "I think saving my life a few times is pretty romantic nowadays. There's this guy….he's kind of a jerk and likes to act like he's such a badass , but he's actually pretty nice." She blushed. "He knows how to use a crossbow too."

Daryl sputtered, but knew when to take a compliment. "He sounds pretty badass to me."

She yawned and put her head on his shoulder, making herself comfortable. He settled into the position without thinking.

"I need a guy like you," she whispered.

Daryl draped his arm over her shoulder. "Me?" He was a little stunned, and surprisingly flattered. "I ain't gonna live forever."

He felt her arms slip around to hug him hard. She grabbed on like she was afraid he'd disappear. Shit, why the fuck did he say that?

"Maybe if we're both still single in a few years." Daryl blamed the lack of sleep for the crazy shit that just escaped his mouth. Beth laughed against his chest.

They knew the chances of surviving a few years, but neither verbalized it. It no longer needed to be said.

"I'll keep you to that." Maybe she said it as a joke to make him more uncomfortable, but it didn't.

"Good, somebody's got to keep me in line."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "For shutting down earlier."

Daryl squeezed her shoulder. "You came back, that's all that matters. Otherwise I'd have to drag you around like Mich's walkers."

Her fingers dug into his shirt at the mention of the name, even though she laughed again. He unconsciously did the same to her shoulder.

In the morning, he woke her at a decent hour. The levity of the night had worn away to reality once more.

"You ready?" He asked getting to his feet and offering his hand. Beth took it and Daryl still saw life still in her eyes. It was enough. It had to be.

* * *

Well, romance in The Walking Dead just seemed so implausible, at least in the traditional sense at this point.


End file.
